


you got a hold on me

by blackkat



Series: KisaGen Drabbles [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Flirting, Friendship, Humor, M/M, aka Kiri isn't terrible, and the Swordsmen get genin teams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 01:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19346578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: That’s a nice face, Genma thinks. A hell of a nice face. And the biceps that are as big around as Genma's head are nothing to sneeze at, either.“Genma,” Aoba starts, a warning in his voice, but in the same moment the bigger Swordsman laughs again, leaning down, and instantly three of the genin swarm him. He boosts them up, then rises easily, like the weight of three genin is nothing at all, and Genma watches them laugh and cling to his shoulders, his arms, and licks his lips.“Genma,” Aoba says, and that’s his judgey and horrified tone.





	you got a hold on me

“This would be why you don’t talk back to the scary head interrogator, you jerk,” Aoba says with a groan, hefting the box up onto his shoulder a little higher. “You got us assigned _chuunin work_.”

“I seem to recall,” Genma says dryly, “that you were right there backing me up.”

“Because I'm an idiot, clearly,” Aoba laments, sidestepping a squad of hurrying genin.

Genma hums, rolling his senbon with his tongue. “No argument,” he says, and when Aoba shoots him a glare over the tops of his sunglasses, he smirks. “Oh, come on. We walked in on him and Anko. Like you _weren’t_ going to tease him about that.”

Aoba groans even louder. “You got us assigned as _exam proctors_. I was going to spend the next month kicking back and doing the bare minimum, but now I actually have to _work_.”

“You just don’t want Sasuke catching on that you’re half-Uchiha,” Genma tells him, and Aoba hisses furiously at him, making hushing motions.

“I don’t want the _extremely skilled murderer who wiped out the whole clan_ catching on that I'm— _that_ ,” Aoba insists. “Sasuke would be _fine_ , but Itachi is a _psycho_.”

“No argument there.” Genma casts a glance down the mostly-deserted street, then checks the position of the sun. Barely after dawn, but it’s already getting hot. It’ll be even hotter in the arena, though, which isn't something he’s looking forward to. Still, the river is close enough that he can duck out on a break, take a dip to cool off. Genma's always liked the water.

Voices up ahead catch his attention, figures at the gate. Genma tilts his head, watching Kotetsu and Izumo usher the newcomers through with a decent amount of cheer, and lets himself relax a little. The two chuunin have good instincts, and even if this group is wearing Kiri hitai-ate, as long as Kotetsu and Izumo don’t immediately peg them as a threat, Genma is willing to at least give them the benefit of the doubt.

“More genin teams?” Aoba asks, faintly surprised, and then whistles lowly. “Damn, they're Swordsmen. Kiri isn't holding back.”

“When do they ever?” Genma asks, but he studies the pair, arching a brow. Two men, the shorter one slightly younger, the bigger one definitely _bigger_. Their genin teams are mixing around them, familiar with each other in the way of former classmates, and even if the younger man looks a little tense, the other is laughing.

That’s a nice face, Genma thinks. A _hell_ of a nice face. And the biceps that are as big around as Genma's head are nothing to sneeze at, either.

“Genma,” Aoba starts, a warning in his voice, but in the same moment the bigger Swordsman laughs again, leaning down, and instantly three of the kids swarm him. He boosts them up, then rises easily, like the weight of three genin is nothing at all, and Genma watches them laugh and cling to his shoulders, his arms, and licks his lips.

“ _Genma_ ,” Aoba says, and that’s his judgey and horrified tone. Genma flips him off automatically, but he shifts the stack of files he’s carrying to his other arm and changes direction.

“Kiri's being put up in the inn in the Ume district, right?” he asks.

“Damn it, Genma, stop looking like you're going to eat him alive,” Aoba hisses, but he follows at Genma's heels as he makes for the gate. “Ibiki is going to _murder_ us.”

“He’s the one who made us proctors,” Genma says lazily, and calls up a smile that’s hopefully not too predatory as they. “And besides, I just want a _taste_. The other one’s your type, right?”

“My type is you not starting an international incident because you see a guy with a nice smile and big muscles and start thinking with your dick,” Aoba says viciously, but he shoves his sunglasses back into place and keeps up, so clearly he doesn’t object that strongly.

“Morning, Kotetsu, Izumo,” Genma says, pitching his voice to carry.

Instantly, Kotetsu spins, and he grins at Genma. “Genma! You’re running errands for Ibiki?”

Genma shrugs, all too aware of the curious gaze resting on him as the big Kiri nin balances his kids. “You know how it is, you catch your boss in bed with his old crush one time and make an observation, and suddenly you're in the doghouse. He’ll get over it.”

“Observation,” Izumo repeats, a little dubiously, and glances at Aoba for confirmation. Genma huffs in offence, and is promptly ignored.

Aoba clears his throat and scratches his cheek, and Genma's known him more than long enough to catch how he’s determinedly _not_ looking at the other Kiri nin, who’s gotten into a quiet argument with one of his genin. “Maybe more than one observation, to be fair. Maybe just a little teasing. You know. Miniscule amounts.”

Kotetsu snickers. “That’s what I thought,” he says, and then waves a hand. “Hey, if you’re here, that means we don’t have to call for a guide to show these teams in. you can get them to the Ume district, right?”

“Sure,” Genma says, like that wasn’t absolutely his plan all along, and turns a lazy grin on the big Kiri nin. “Hey. Nice to meet you. I'm Shiranui Genma.”

Dark eyes flicker down Genma's body, then back up, and the grin he offers in return is full of sharpened teeth. “Hoshigaki Kisame,” he returns. “And Team 4.”

“We have _names_ ,” a redheaded little girl says primly, from where she’s sitting on Kisame's shoulder. “I'm Uzumaki Karin.”

“Jūgo,” the orange-haired boy under Kisame's arm says, with a carefully polite wave.

The last, a boy who’s a little older and sporting earmuffs over his blue hair and black-framed glasses, just nods. It makes Karin roll her eyes, and she jabs a finger at him and says, “That’s Chōjūrō.”

“Pleasure,” Genma says, amused, and hooks a thumb at Aoba. “This is—”

“Yamashiro Aoba,” the other Kiri nin says, and when Genma blinks and glances over, his attention is fully focused on Aoba. “I recognize you from the Bingo Book. Interrogation specialist.”

“That’d be me,” Aoba says, more or less cheerfully, though his expression is sharp. “And you’re Momochi Zabuza, the Demon of the Hidden Mist.”

Given that Aoba keeps up on foreign jounin a lot better than Genma manages, Genma's not surprised when Zabuza tips his head, that grin a challenge. “You got the drop on the Cipher Squad a few months back. Shitty thing to do, but nice work anyway.”

Aoba smirks, touching two fingers to his brow. “I try,” he says, and tips his head. “Come on, this way.”

Genma waits for Zabuza and his team—a dark-haired child of indeterminate gender, a white-haired boy with purple eyes, and a girl with masses of golden-blonde hair—to file past, then glances at Kisame as he lowers his team to the ground again. Karin is the last to slide off, landing on her feet, and then immediately hurries ahead, grabbing Zabuza’s dark-haired genin. The child turns, smiling at her, and they immediately put their heads together. Making mischief, probably, by the looks on their faces.

Kisame chuckles, falling into step with Genma as they follow. “Konoha's prettier than I expected,” he says, but when Genma looks up, Kisame's eyes aren’t on the scenery. They're on him.

 _Well_ , Genma thinks, and smiles. “Lots more to see if you know where to look,” he promises lazily, and pulls the senbon from his mouth, flipping it through his fingers. “I could give you a tour, if you wanted.”

Kisame grins, wide and amused and full of intent. “Sounds good to me,” he says cheerfully. “Long as I have time to hit the training fields.”

Genma can't imagine much better than getting up close and personal with Kisame in a spar. Maybe pinning him, or getting pinned, or just a hell of a lot of one-on-one contact. “I can probably help you with that, too,” he promises, and Kisame's eyes are sharp and steady.

“Sounds like a plan,” he agrees, and his fingers graze Genma's arm as he reaches up to adjust the sword across his back. The touch brings a bite of chakra with it, stronger than anything Genma's felt in a while, and it makes his breath catch.

Kisame chuckles, and as his hand drops, it finds a place in the small of Genma's back, guiding him forward.

Genma doesn’t object at all.


End file.
